


but it's gonna be my year

by heart_made_of_glass



Series: i wanna feel weightless [2]
Category: SKAM (Netherlands), WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Jens and Lucas attend the same school, M/M, Spider-Man!Jens, more of an unidentified Antwerp/Utrecht hybrid city, not really set in Belgium or the Netherlands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22233280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heart_made_of_glass/pseuds/heart_made_of_glass
Summary: Following Jens's near-disastrous stabbing incident, he can't seem to stop thinking about the mysterious boy that helped him.Sequel to maybe it’s not my weekend
Relationships: Jens Stoffels/Lucas van der Heijden, Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans (mentioned)
Series: i wanna feel weightless [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600360
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	but it's gonna be my year

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of this series came out much easier than this one, but I'm glad to finally have it done so that I can share it with all of you. I hope you enjoy the continuation of Spider-Man!Jens as much as I do, because I have some other ideas for this series!
> 
> Title from the song "Weightless" by All Time Low

Jens felt like shit.

That might have been giving too much credit to shit, actually, because Jens was sure that nothing, crap or not, had ever felt as badly as he did right at that moment. He may have spent all of the previous day comatose in his bed, but he felt as if he hadn’t slept a wink in about six years. Getting stabbed tended to have that affect on the body, Jens thought wryly.

There really should have been a specific day, Jens believed, that you could take off for something like this. Like a sick day, but instead of being sick, you were stabbed to within an inch of your life and had to watch all of your blood slowly leak out of your body. A stab day, that’s what Jens needed right now.

At least the wound had finally healed. A hiss escaped him as his body jerked at that thought. The wound might have been healed, but Jens’s side was still sore. He would have to keep that in mind for the next few days, be a bit more careful than he usually would have been. Only a small scar remained, but there was always the fear that Jens would be able to reopen the wound, re-stab his side, in some way.

But.

_At least the wound_ _had_ _healed._

And Jens owed that to the face he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. Even during his all-consuming sleep the day before—a phenomenon that is usually more dreamless than not—the strange boy’s face had drifted through his mind, haunting his dreams. Jens wasn’t quite sure what it was about the boy that made the memory of him so hard to shake. Of course, nothing of their meeting had been usual, that was for sure. Jens had experienced quite a few extraordinary circumstances since the spider bite that had changed his life, but he had never been forced to break into a stranger’s apartment and beg said stranger to stitch him up while he bled out on their, admittedly, lovely shade of blue sheets. The whole situation had been so surreal that if Jens didn’t have the stitches in his side as a perverse souvenir, he would have been sure that the whole thing had never happened.

But it had happened, and though it might seem impossible, Jens had only one regret about the whole night.

He hadn’t gotten the boy’s name.

Jens believes that he can be forgiven for this oversight. After all, he had had much bigger, more pressing issues on his mind at the time. However, he still wishes that the fog that had been swirling around inside of his head had cleared just long enough for him to have the clarity and the awareness to ask for the other boy’s name. For reasons that Jens isn’t sure he can explain right now, the other boy didn’t feel like someone Jens wanted to just meet once and then forget about. No, he felt, instead, like someone that Jens might want to meet again. And maybe again after that.

Which would have been easier to accomplish if he had gotten the other boy’s name.

A shake of his head to clear that thought away, as Jens pulled the hood of his sweatshirt down lower over his face. This wasn’t the time to be thinking of that night, of that boy. No, instead, Jens needed to keep his focus on what felt to him at that moment to be an insurmountable task.

School.

Jens really should have taken that stab day, because he’s not sure he’ll be able to sit at a desk all day, trying to retain pointless facts in a brain that had somehow slept too long and not nearly long enough.

Something slapped against Jens’s back, causing him to jump, and then to immediately curse himself. Nothing has been able to sneak up on Jens in a long, long time, not since before the bite. He must really be out of it. He needed to get his head screwed on straight.

“Cutting it a little close,” Robbe teased, using the hand he still had on Jens’s shoulder to guide him into the school building, then in the direction of their lockers.

“Overslept,” Jens grunted as way of an answer. He rested his head tiredly against a locker near Robbe’s, watching the other boy open his own and start rummaging around in it for the books he would need for his early classes.

At least some of Jens’s senses must have been working properly, because he was able to catch Robbe’s snort of amusement over the clash of metal on metal, the sound the other boy made as he slammed the door of his locker shut. “There’s nothing new there.” And Jens had to admit that his best friend did have a point. Since the bite, Jens had a habit of spending almost every night of the week out on the town, patrolling for any criminals or any difference that he could make, until the wee hours of the morning. Sleeping past his alarm—and the backup alarm and the second backup alarm—was not uncommon these days. “No shortcut today?”

When you sleep through all three of the alarms you have set for school—and the sound of your brother banging around needlessly loudly in the bathroom, and the sound of your mother pounding on your bedroom door, shouting at you to “get up already, or you’ll be late, yet again”—you need a quick way to get to school, because the typical public transportation system wasn’t going to work with you. Luckily for Jens, he had an alternative way to get to school, found in the form of Spider-Man’s web-shooters. The spider bite changed a lot about Jens’s life, but though it’s taken some things away—namely, sleep—it’s also found a way to give other things back—such as no longer having to be stuck in traffic, ever again.

Jens can tell the exact moment that Robbe figures out that there’s more going on with Jens than just him being tired as usual. The smile that his best friend wears when he’s teasing Jens or one of their other friends—a smile Jens has seen a lot lately, because making jokes at his friends’ expense is a favorite pastime of Robbe’s—falls right off of Robbe’s face, replaced, instead, by a frown, another expression of Robbe’s that Jens is uncomfortably familiar with. “Whoa, wait,” Robbe said, leaning closer to Jens and dropping his voice almost imperceptibly. “Did something happen?”

“You would know,” Jens began, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice, “if you had bothered to answer your phone when I called you.” He was still quite pissed at Robbe for not being home when he needed him, and for not picking up the phone when Jens had called. However, Jens cannot ignore now that if Robbe hadn’t abandoned him, Saturday night would have turned out much differently, and Jens is quite glad that it did not. “So much for being the guy in the chair,” Jens finished. With a snort of his own, Jens pushed off of the locker he was still leaning against, shouldered his way past Robbe, and then continued on down the hallway toward his own locker.

“Wait, wait, wait,” He heard Robbe call after him as the other boy chased him down the hallway. Jens didn’t stop until he reached his locker, having to pound on the door twice before the damn thing deigned to open. Only then did he turn to face Robbe once more, an eyebrow raised in a gesture Jens hoped Robbe would translate into encouragement to keep talking; Jens suspected that it was only because the two had been friends for so long that Robbe picked up on that message. “Something went down on Saturday? That’s why you called? I…,” Robbe trailed off, looking slightly ashamed. Jens’s eyebrow, which had taken a short eyebrow, lifted once more, only this time in question. “I was with Sander that night. Turned off my phone.”

 _Of course you did,_ Jens thought but didn’t say. Robbe’s relationship with Sander and his newfound confidence in his sexuality were both still fairly new. So new, in fact, that Jens still felt as if he had to be careful with Robbe, in a way; he had to watch the things he said, the jokes he made. He didn’t want to accidentally cross a line. It taken a lot for Robbe to finally come out to Jens, he had struggled so long before then, that Jens didn’t want to make some mistake and let Robbe down in some way. No, Jens figured that, instead, it was better to keep the sarcasm and the wisecracks to himself, at least for now.

“It’s all right,” Jens said, and wasn’t as surprised as he would have been two days ago to find that that was the truth. Things hadn’t worked out all right in the end, hadn’t they? _In fact,_ a voice in Jens’s head whispered, _things had worked out_ better _than all right._

“It doesn’t seem all right,” Robbe observed, his eyes scanning Jens’s body, looking for anything that might be wrong, off. For about the thirteenth time just that morning, Jens was incredibly glad that his body had already healed. The only thing Robbe was likely to find, now, were the bags under Jens’s eyes; for better or for worse, however, those bags never seemed to leave, so Robbe wasn’t likely to flag them as anything suspicious. “I did go by your house yesterday,” Robbe admitted. “Your mom said you were sleeping. I just figured you were tired from patrolling. I never thought…,” Again, Robbe trailed off; his expression this time was troubled, concerned, not ashamed.

“It’s fine, Robbe, really.” Jens patted Robbe’s shoulder comfortingly once, twice, before he shut the door of his locker, probably a little harder than he meant to. Hiking his backpack further up his shoulder, Jens took one step, intending to get to his first class a little early. If he headed there now, he might be able to catch a few more minutes of sleep before class began. Robbe, it seemed, had other ideas, and barred Jens’s exit.

“Were you able to get into the apartment?” He asked. His brow furrowed, either in confusion or in deep thought, Jens couldn’t tell. “I can’t remember if,” Robbe took a short pause, and in that pause, Jens decided it was _deep in thought._ That was the look on Robbe’s face; he was trying to remember back to Saturday, trying to remember if there was something he had meant to do, and if he had done it. “I can’t remember if I left the window open or not.” Judging by Robbe’s tone of voice, the look on his face, and the knowledge that Jens had tried to call Robbe Saturday night, Jens was fairly sure that Robbe had worked out for himself that he hadn’t, in fact, left the window open.

But everything had worked out in the end, so Jens didn’t see any reason to make Robbe feel worse than he already felt. _Wow,_ Jens couldn’t help but think, _total 180 from Saturday._ “Robbe, it’s really fine. I mean it.”

That tingle, that sixth sense, went off suddenly, causing Jens to jerk his head up so quickly, he almost feared that he had just given himself whiplash. He could Robbe saying something else, but his voice was in the background; it was almost like Jens was hearing it from several miles away, maybe even from underwater. Just over his best friend’s shoulder, Jens saw something—no, he saw some _one._ The face, _that_ face. The one face that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for two days straight.

The other boy, the one whose name Jens was beating himself up for not getting.

But.

 _How could he be here?_ How could this be happening? It couldn’t be possible, it didn’t seem that it was possible. Jens was 97% sure that he had never seen the other boy in school before, but there he was, strolling down the hallway like he had always been there.

Jens felt as if his heart had skyrocketed up into his throat, and oddly, also as if his heart had fallen out the bottom of his stomach. Wherever his heart had ended up, it was beating twice as fast, it was slowing down. No, the whole world was slowing down. Jens was watching the boy walk past him, deep in conversation with another boy their age, in slow motion. Jens’s whole body was shaking, tingling, and he was suddenly so hot, he was sure that someone must have turned the heat up in the school to dangerous levels.

Something slapped across Jens’s cheek.

It wasn’t hard. It took a lot to hurt Jens these days— _like a knife,_ for instance—and a light tap delivered to one of his cheeks like Robbe had just done didn’t even come close. It was, however, enough to make Jens draw his attention from the boy from Saturday night—who was turning a corner out of sight anyway—and bring it back to Robbe. He even remembered to reach a hand up to rub at his cheek, which should have been burning from the slap; image was everything when you were trying to keep your identity a secret.

“What the hell was that for?” Jens demanded of his best friend.

“I lost you for a second there,” Robbe explained, not looking in the slightest like he regretted having to slap Jens to get his attention. “Are you back now?”

“Fuck you,” Jens retaliated, though he didn’t really mean, wasn’t really paying attention. Even though he knew it was pointless, even though he knew that the boy wouldn’t be there, Jens glanced down the hallway, hoping to catch just one more glimpse. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t there, and, even though Jens knew he wouldn’t be, he still found himself sorely disappointed.

He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he swiveled his head back around to face Robbe, and he asked him, “Do you know who that is?”

Jens wanted to facepalm, wanted to turn around and beat his head against his locker. _Do you know who that is?_ What the hell was wrong with him? Robbe’s back had been to the boy the whole time he had been walking past, and now Jens had tipped his hand. Robbe was absolutely going to know that something was going on, because Jens just didn’t _do_ things like this, didn’t behave like this. _Get yourself together, Stoffels._

“Who?” Robbe asked. “Lucas?”

Jens felt as if someone had stuck a hot poker right through his chest. “Lucas?”

“The guy you were just staring at, right? Which,” Robbe began, looking confused, exasperated, generally like he was done with Jens’s bullshit. Which... _fair._ “What was up with that, Jens? _Creepy_.”

“Lucas?” Jens repeated. That name seemed to be the only thing he was capable of saying right now.

“Yes, Lucas,” Robbe said, and he definitely sounded more exasperated than anything else right now. “He’s in a couple of my classes. Why do you care?”

Jens didn’t want to get into why he cared right now. All he wanted to do was get away, go somewhere where he could be alone, where he could breathe. Jens knew he was breathing, but he didn’t feel like he was. He needed to not be in this claustrophobic hallway, he needed to get away from Robbe and all of his questions.

“Jens,” Robbe tried to say, tried to protest as Jens started to push past his best friend once more. Jens couldn’t stop this time, he really couldn’t. He didn’t know why this information was affecting him this badly, but _it was._

“Robbe,” Jens said, and he wasn’t sure, but his voice sounded off even to himself. “I can’t do this right now. I need to get to class.”

Jens isn’t sure what his face looks like, but it must be bad, because Robbe lets him go without further argument. Jens really isn’t sure what’s going on with his body, with his emotions, with his _sanity_ , but he is sure of one thing: As he makes his way down the hallway towards his first class of the day, he can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face.

_The boy’s name is Lucas._

oOo

_There is nothing wrong with this._

At least, that’s what Jens had been telling himself for three days straight.

There was nothing wrong with going over to Robbe’s to study. Robbe was his best friend, after all. And even though Jens would never admit it out loud, he had his shit together way more than Jens did. Studying with Robbe was something Jens always jumped on when the chance presented itself. See? Absolutely nothing wrong with it.

So what if his intentions weren’t exactly pure this time around?

Not that his intentions were _im_ pure, he chided himself. Anything of any impure implications is definitely not the reason Jens had orchestrated this whole charade. He had just...he wanted an excuse to spend a little time getting to know Lucas, all right?

Lucas.

Jens had not been able to stop thinking about the boy since he had learned the name that went with the face that had been haunting his dreams. To be honest, the whole situation was starting to freak Jens out a little bit. He was becoming way too obsessed with Lucas way too fast, especially considering he hadn’t even _talked_ to the other boy yet. Of course, Spider-Man had talked to Lucas, but Jens believed that didn’t truly count. Spider-Man and Jens Stoffels were two separate people, at least in Jens’s mind. And also in Jens’s mind, this Lucas obsession wasn’t going to go away or get any better until _Jens_ had talked to Lucas himself, sans Spider-Man armor between the two.

Which is why he’s here, in Robbe’s apartment, waiting for Lucas to arrive. He’s trying to ignore the looks Robbe keeps throwing him from his position at his desk, because they’re only making him feel worse. He did lie to his best friend about why he wanted to be here today—a lie of omission is still a lie, right?—and he hates lying to Robbe. He avoids it whenever possible, because it’s only adding to the mess of nerves in his stomach, making him feel as though he’s going to throw up.

 _God,_ he hopes he doesn’t throw up.

Jens wanted to believe that he had come across the information completely naturally—had almost even been able to convince himself of that fact—but he knew that Robbe had let the bomb drop intentionally. He hadn’t even tried to be subtle about it, really. He had looked Jens square in the eye during lunch on Tuesday and told the table—but, really, he told _Jens_ not Moyo and Aaron, and they all knew it, even if Moyo and Aaron didn’t know _why_ they knew it—that he had been assigned a project in literature, and his assigned partner was a boy by the name of Lucas van Der Heijden.

Jens had immediately felt as if his whole body went as hot as a furnace; he swore that he could even feel sweat beginning to bead at his temples. He didn’t need to be a genius to quickly put together that Lucas _van Der Heijden_ was the very Lucas that Jens had seen in the school hallway the other day, the very Lucas that he had been thinking nonstop about since their accidental meeting on Saturday. He also didn’t need to be a genius to understand that while Moyo and Aaron were confused as the why Robbe was updating them all about his stupid literature project, Robbe was using the moment to study Jens. Robbe had seen Jens’s reaction to Lucas in the hall, after all; he wanted to see if Jens would have the same reaction here.

That’s why, even though Jens felt as if his whole body was burning and tingling and a whole bunch of other sensations that he couldn’t exactly describe, he had tried to act as if the news hadn’t affected him in any way. He had even managed to keep it from getting under his skin...for precisely forty-seven minutes. Jens was weak, okay? When he wanted something, he wanted it, end of story. He wasn’t a strong believe in the concept of delayed gratification. He was, however, a strong believer in the gratitude of having a decent friend. Jens knew that Robbe suspected that something was up between Jens and Lucas—how could he not, after the way Jens had reacted to Lucas in the hallway? Which is why Jens was extremely grateful that Robbe hadn’t said anything when Jens had not-so-casually—though he had definitely _tried_ to be casual, really—invited himself over to Robbe’s apartment to study on the same day that Robbe was supposed to begin working on his literature project with Lucas.

There was nothing wrong with this, _really._

Jens would get some studying in, and he’d be able to talk to Lucas in an inconspicuous way, considering Jens had never talked to the other boy, or even known he _existed_ , before Saturday. Win-win for everyone in Jens’s book.

That is until Robbe leaves his bedroom to go let Lucas into the apartment and Jens realizes he’s actually going to have to _talk_ to the other boy now, and he doesn’t really know what to talk to him about. As far as Jens knows, the only thing the two of them have in common is the night that Lucas surprised him with his bad-ass sewing skills and kept Jens alive. The only problem with that, however, is that Lucas isn’t aware that the whole thing happened. That was going to make the conversation very awkward.

Jens only has time for a very short panic attack about his lack of anything interesting to say, however, before Robbe is reappearing in the doorway. He gives Jens a look that Jens can’t—and doesn’t really want to—decipher, and Jens has but a moment to gather himself before another figure is following Robbe into the bedroom.

And then…

And then, there he is.

Lucas van Der Heijden.

 _He’s even more beautiful than I thought_ , Jens realizes, now that he’s able to take Lucas in fully, not writhing in pain or being watched by other people—and Robbe doesn’t count as _other people,_ not in Jens’s book. Jens really isn’t sure where to look first, where to rest his gaze, because everything Jens can see about Lucas is absolutely _perfect,_ from his curly hair that looks just a touch too long but also somehow the exact right length to his piercing blue eyes to everything else. It takes Jens way longer than it should to realize that he’s staring at Lucas—has been staring at him for longer than is strictly necessary—and that he still hasn’t said anything, and that the whole situation is edging into awkward territory.

“Hey,” he greets the other boy, and he’s thankful beyond all words that his voice isn’t as gruff as he was expecting it to be. He’s even able to tack on a small, single nod to the word, and he really hopes that it looks cooler than it feels.

“Hey,” Lucas echoes before he throws a questioning look over to Robbe, a look that Robbe only shrugs in response to.

“I’m Jens, Robbe’s friend,” Jens explains, though, he has to admit, that’s not really an explanation for what he’s doing here, crashing the study session for a project assigned by a class that he’s not even in.

At first Jens thinks he’s imagining things, or that it’s just a trick of the light, but he swears that when he introduces himself, a very faint shade of red stains Lucas’s cheeks. Jens really only notices it because he hasn’t been able to keep his eyes of Lucas since he entered the room. He needs to figure out how to tear his gaze from the other boy soon, because Lucas is going to realize Jens can’t stop staring at him any minute now, if he hasn’t realized it already. “Lucas,” the other boy introduced quietly before he settled himself next to Robbe on the bed.

Both boys pulled out and opened their textbooks, and Jens got one more cursory glance from Lucas before Robbe redirected his attention to their literature project. Jens settled back in Robbe’s desk chair, ruminating that he should have spent less time worrying about Lucas arriving and more time actually doing his homework, because now that the other boy was actually here, Jens wasn’t sure he was going to get anything productive done.

oOo

Jens was able to leave Lucas and Robbe in peace for a whole hour—plus thirteen minutes—before his self-restraint ran out and he just couldn’t take it anymore. Closing the textbook he had open on his lap—history? Jens thinks it might have been his history textbook, but he couldn’t really be sure because he hadn’t been paying even a speck of attention to it—he swiveled Robbe’s desk chair around to face the two boys on the bed. He waited another twenty-three seconds before he finally interrupted the other two.

“Hey, it’s been a while,” Jens started, ignoring the glare he got from Robbe for the interruption. “How about a break?”

“Maybe _you_ need a break from doing nothing,” Robbe fired back with an edge of irritation in his voice, “but _we_ were just getting somewhere with this project.”

Before Jens could say anything else—either to appease his friend or to irritate him more, he’s not sure which—Lucas breaks into the conversation. “Actually, I do feel like I could use a break.” There was a small smile playing at Lucas’s lips, a smile that Jens can’t help but return, but Lucas’s smile slips when he catches sight of the unimpressed look on Robbe’s face. “I mean, only if that’s all right with you, of course.”

Jens knows by the sigh Robbe releases that he—and Lucas—have won. “You know, Robbe, you haven’t been that great of a host.” He’ll probably pay for this later, but Jens never could resist teasing Robbe whenever the opportunity presents itself. “Why don’t you go rummage up some snacks for all of us?”

 _If looks could kill_ , Jens thought, but, again, he knew he had won. Robbe was nice, especially with guests around. He wouldn’t want to put Lucas out, so Jens was not surprised when Robbe stalked out of the bedroom without another word. Lucas, however, looked mildly alarmed at Robbe’s exit. “Don’t worry about him,” Jens reassured.

“I didn’t mean to annoy him,” Lucas said quietly. His eyes had returned to his textbook—still open on his lap—and the red tint had returned to his cheeks.

“Oh trust me, you didn’t.” Jens moved from the desk chair to the spot on the bed that Robbe had vacated without really being aware of his decision to do so. “That was all me.”

The laugh Jens got out of Lucas for that comment was, Jens was embarrassed to admit, one of his new favorite sounds. It just sounded so sincere, so carefree. Jens didn’t understand this feeling deep inside of himself, but he wants Lucas to always sound like this, like nothing is bothering him or could ever touch him.

“So,” Lucas says when his laugh tapers off. “How long have you and Robbe known each other?”

“Since we were kids, so like, basically for forever.” Jens laughs at his own attempt at a joke, and is relieved when Lucas laughs as well.

“I have a friend like that, too,” Lucas confesses. “His name is Kes.”

The only response Jens gives to that is a small hum of acknowledgment because he really doesn’t want to talk about this Kes guy right now; all he does want to talk about is Lucas himself.

However, a wrench gets thrown into that plan when an annoying ringtone shrills through the room. Jens begins to reach into his pocket to check if it’s his, only to remember that he broke it on Saturday and hasn’t yet got the chance to replace it. Instead, he watches as Lucas checks his own phone, only to roll his eyes at whatever he sees on the screen. He silences the annoying ringing before tossing the phone on the sheets between himself and Jens, screen up. His shoulders are up in a show of tension that immediately fades and is replaced be shame when he realizes that Jens has watched the whole exchange.

“Sorry about that,” Lucas apologizes, eyes shifting from place to place, landing everywhere except on Jens.

“It’s okay,” Jens is quick to reassure, because Lucas’s carefree nature has completely disappeared and Jens wants to do whatever he can to bring it back. “Is everything all right?”

“Fine,” Lucas huffs. “Everything is fine.”

Jens doesn’t really believe him, and he’s far too curious for his own good. That’s the excuse Jens is going to use if Lucas catches him leaning forward to try and catch a glimpse of that’s on Lucas’s phone, what clearly irritated Lucas so much. And that’s when he sees it.

The picture.

The picture of the police chief that Jens knows so well because he has tried to arrest him more times that Jens can really count.

The police chief that thinks that Spider-Man is a menace to society and a vigilante and should be stopped at all costs, no matter what means it takes to bring him in.

The police chief that on Lucas’s phone is listed under the name of…

_Dad._


End file.
